


Excitée

by darling_pet



Series: The Flash S05 Drabbles [3]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Anger, Angry Sex, Angst, Bickering, Body Language, Deductions, Denial, Denial of Feelings, F/M, Français | French, Hiding, Lies, Masturbation, Reader-Insert, S05E03, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Smut, Woman on Top, makeout
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 01:21:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16483370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darling_pet/pseuds/darling_pet
Summary: “New Wells” Sherloque’s deduction skills are a little too on the nose when he picks up on your involuntary body language.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rated Mature for the last chapter. (Flash Drabble S05E03)

Cisco leaves the Lounge verging on tears after the Team’s new Wells,  _Sherloque_ , the master detective of the multiverse, deduces the engineer’s lingering heartbreak from Gypsy.

“Gee, why don’t you pick on someone your own size, Holmes?” you say, not as a challenge, but as a meaningless offhand comment as you worry for your troubled friend.

“Ah, my admirer speaks up,  _finalement_ ,” the detective notices, with a cheeky quirk of his eyebrow.

You pause. “Admirer…? What do you mean by that?”

“I am glad you asked. It is the way you ‘ave been touching your face and ‘air since I arrived. And ‘ow your body is leaning in t’wards me now. Not to mention your crossed legs and wetting of the lips…” The man strokes the peppered stubble on his chin and smirks at you. “Need I go on, hmm?”

You can’t believe he just deduced you so bluntly in front of everyone, who all now have their eyes glued to you, trying to see what Sherloque sees.

Caitlin whispers, “(Y/N), is that true?”

“Pfft, no!” you deny. “Absolutely  _not_!”

“She lies,” Sherloque calls you out, then takes a tiny sip of his intricately made tea.

“I am not lying,” you stubbornly protest. This guy thinks he’s so good at what he does, and you don’t want him to be right. Even if every word he said was indeed painfully accurate because you do find him devastatingly attractive.

Sherloque shrugs nonchalantly as if he doesn’t care in the slightest whether you fight him on this or not because, damn it, he already  _knows_  he’s right.

“Say what you will,  _ma petite biche_ ,” he practically coos in his soft French accent, leaning forward to  _you_  across the Lounge’s bar counter and locking on to your eyes, “but the body never lies.  _Je vous excite, non_?”

The amount of French you’ve learned in the past is enough for you to understand what he just said to you… 

 _“I make you aroused, no?”_  he had said.

You blush hard and look away, slumping your shoulders. The city outside the window never looked as interesting as it does right now.

“ _No._ I’m going to check on Cisco,” you announce, before remembering a phrase you’d picked up from high school French, “ _Casse-toi_ , Wells.”

You storm out of the room, thinking if the man gets you this worked up on the first day, how were you going to survive his indefinite stay on Team Flash?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations of importance:
> 
> ma petite biche - my little doe (female deer)
> 
> Casse-toi - f*** off


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can’t get Sherloque out of your head since he’s arrived, and after some alone time with yourself, you run into the man you’d been thinking about. And you can’t hide anything from the greatest detective in the multiverse…

So you’ve been reduced to this - hiding out in the washroom down the hall from the Speed Lab. It’s the only place where you’ve been able to find peace and quiet for the last few weeks and get away from that damned deducing detective.

_God, he just doesn’t know when to give it a rest, does he?_

_Ugh, Sherloque. He thinks he’s so great._

He thinks he’s got you all figured out.

_Damn him. Damn my body for feeling this way._

You may be able to deny it to Team Flash until your dying breath, but you couldn’t deny it to yourself. Sherloque Wells does something to you that you cannot explain, nor can you explain it away - the way your cheeks flare up, or the way your stomach drops when he looks at you, or when your legs tense up when he stands near you.

Not to mention what it feels like between them.

You groan. Why does he have to make you feel this way? Why does he excite every nerve in your body against your wishes?

And why on Earth Freaking One do you have to be turned on at work right now?

It’s beyond unprofessional, shameful and yes, you’ll totally be judging yourself later for it, but you soon find yourself appeasing the aroused and taunting voice in your head telling you to get off in a stall in the women’s bathroom.

“Idiot, Sherloque… how dare he?” you mutter under your breath in the midst of your unspeakable, personal act. “Stupid face. Stupid eyes. Stupid facial hair…”

A moment comes when you screw your eyes shut, and you see nothing but the French detective’s face behind your eyelids. Letting out a ragged breath, you utter the word, “Shame…”

Before you leave, you catch your reflection in the mirror as you wash up, wishing hard you hadn’t. “You’re disgusting,” you chastise yourself.

And after straightening out your clothes, you hastily exit the washroom so as to leave the deed and all those thoughts behind, except you bump into the very man you had wanted to forget.

“Ah!” you jump. “Sherloque!”

Immediately following a quick scan of your body and its reaction, he says, “ _Qu’est-ce que c’est_?”

“What?” You place your hands on your hips, waiting for yet another asinine thing for Sherloque to say.

“Why d’you look like ‘zis?”

“What are you talking about?” you say, trying to even out your breathing, and running a hand through your hair.

“Flushed cheeks, a leetle short of breath, your eyes uhrm…  _se sont dilatée_?”

“What are you getting at, Holmes?” The annoyance is evident in your voice, and a bit of nervousness too, because you’re now worried that he knows just exactly what you did not that long ago… Sherloque exhales a quiet laugh and leans in conspiratorially.

“You were searching for release, non? I must say it is un compliment. And  _s’il vous plaît_ , do not lie ‘zis time.”

You stand there like one of those fish that swim around with their mouths open, eyes feeling just as wide. The embarrassment of having him  _know_  subsides fast though, soon replaced with anger.

“Fine,” you say through gritted teeth, “but I wasn’t thinking about  _you_ , you presumptuous asshole.”

“Uh-huh…” Sherloque replies skeptically, with a smile you’re dying to smack off.

“It wasn’t you!” you protested. “It was…  _Ralph_!”

“Bébé Giraffe?”

“Yes!” you keep the hideous lie going.

“What about me?” comes Ralph’s voice as he casually appears behind you.  _Can this day get any worse?_  Sherloque gives you a look as if he can’t wait to see how you’ll get out of this one. Ralph directs his attention to you.

“Oh, nothing,” you say, “forget about it, Ralph. It’s not important.”

“If you say so, (Y/N).”  _Well, that was easy_. “But come on, you two, the gang needs us in the Cortex.”

Ralph turns and leaves, while Sherloque quirks an eyebrow. You point a deadly finger at the so-called greatest detective and hiss, “Don’t. Even.  _Start_. With me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations of importance:
> 
> “Qu’est-ce que c’est?”: “What is this?”
> 
> se sont dilatée: are dilated
> 
> s’il vous plaît: please


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After yet another heated argument, your and Sherloque’s current fight turns into something even more fiery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hot & angry sex ahead. Please enjoy, my friends.

Another day, another bickering session with Sherloque.

The Team has already kicked you two out of the Cortex to have your argument someplace else and far away from them. They’re starting to get sick of the way you two (well, mostly  _you_ ) have been interacting with each other. If only he didn’t press your buttons so much, things would be fine.

“Eet was a mere  _observation_!” Sherloque argues his defence while attempting to walk past you. “A child could make it.”

“Shut the hell up,” you say, then cover his mouth with your hand. The rough stubble on his chin and cheeks scratch at your skin.  _What would it feel like to have that sensation everywhere on my body?_

You drag him firmly by the arm and shove him into his room that is so conveniently nearby. Yanking his tweed blazer off from his back, you then nearly tear his jet black shirt open, almost busting the buttons off in the unfastening process. Sherloque stands there in his place with his mouth slightly open, letting you strip him hotly. He eyes you in what might appear to be a silent hunger. Once you have him in only his slacks, you stare daggers at his chest. His body is rock hard, and wholly impressive for someone who dresses like he’s from the eighteen-nineties.

You’re suddenly a whole lot angrier.

“How dare you?” you say to his abs.

“I did not s-” You cut the man short and push him back to where he topples onto his bed.

Clothes. You need your clothes off  _now_.

Lifting your dress up and over your head, you throw it far away and onto the floor followed by your already wet panties.

You straddle Sherloque where he lies. Even the small amount of his dark chest hair is fuelling your ever-growing fire.

“You really do ‘ave a, ‘ow you say? ‘Thing’ for me.  _N’est-ce pas_?”

“Stop. Talking,” you order him. “And I don’t.”

_Just because I’m stripping you of your stupidly tight pants doesn’t mean anything._

“Says the flushed woman panting over me and  _me déshabiller_.”

The moment his pants are off his legs, you slink back up his body dangerously, palming his hardness in his boxers and kissing his stupid French lips to shut him up. He moans into your mouth, and you squeeze him down below harder.

“ _Mon Dieu, vous êtes une diablesse_ ,” he breathes out. Sherloque’s hand finds the back of your head through your hair with his hand to pull you in closer for another deep and intense kiss. He even bucks up into your hand, still straining behind the last of the fabric on his body.

But that is immediately dealt with.

It doesn’t take long at all for you to lower your tight yet accommodating heat onto him, filling you up just like you didn’t know how much you really needed. You whine at how good the bastard feels inside you.

Sherloque sits up, and you feel his hot breath warming your breast. He licks your skin first before taking your nipple in his mouth, making you let out the most indecent noise you’ve ever heard. You feel like your body is betraying your mind a hundred times over. His lips suck on your hardened peak while one of his hands grip your ass and help you in your quickening movements. Then he has the audacity to use his teeth…

“F-fuck-” you curse, letting your hips rock faster against him. Sherloque breathes erratically into your cleavage and looks up into your fiery eyes.

“Ah, oui,  _baise-moi_ , (Y/N).”

His hand rubs a circle on your skin, then smacks your ass. You gasp, then growl at him for such an action.

“Fuck you, Wells.” You push him down to his back as he makes an  _oof_  sound. The next series of events happen as if you’re not even in your own body anymore - rutting and grinding, you take him for everything that he gives you, meeting you halfway with his own eager thrusts into you. Your head tosses back as the orgasm hits, mouth open with a strangled sharp cry. Your eyes blur before white rings appear behind your eyelids, encircling what seems to be a stamped image of a dazed and captivated Sherloque Wells. He lets out a long string of rasping French swears, and they only get louder. Except, when you lift yourself off of the man, he still hasn’t found his release. You flop onto your back on the bed beside him, and he huffs loudly, mixed with an exasperated groan.

Sherloque looks and sounds thoroughly pissed off, and is soon over top of your naked and spent body with a sexy as fuck scowl on his face. He takes his cock in his hand and pumps it with a tight fist.

“What are you  _doing_?” you demand rhetorically, feeling the swirling in your stomach return, not knowing whether it’s out of anger or arousal.

“You didn’t let me finish,” he grunts. Continuing to stare, your eyes rake over his concentrating face, his chest, down to where he tugs himself in your direction. It doesn’t take much longer for the detective to spill his white, hot release over your breasts and stomach.

You did  _not_  mean to make that _noise, God._

Blinking and speechless, you sit up in bed and stare even more daggers at Sherloque, then get up and storm into the bathroom off his S.T.A.R. Labs bedroom.

 _I cannot believe he just did that._  Begrudgingly, you wash his come from your skin with water from the sink and one of the towels hanging on the rod near the door. Once you’re clean, you walk back into the room without looking at him and proceed to pick up your dress.

Sherloque lays on his back again, watching you, hand on his dumb rippled stomach.

“I hope we’re clear,” you say, glowering at him, “I’m  _not_  into you.”

“No, I think ‘zat was me,” he quips, “and besides, your clothes all over ‘ze floor beg to differ. Does not take a Master Detective to see ‘zat.”

“Shut. Up.”

Sherloque rises from the bed. “Make me,” he taunts in a deeply seductive and teasing tone as if wanting you to go through it all again for a round two.

You let out an irritated noise and resentfully put your dress back on before leaving and slamming the door to his room.

 _I don’t like him_ , you tell yourself.  _He’s arrogant and a bad husband - allegedly - and pig-headed and I am_ so _not into him. And while I can’t fault him for his looks, I just needed to blow off some pent-up steam that he created. He just happened to be there and set me off, the asshole. It’s only his face and his body I only maybe like, but the rest of him, ugh, is awful._

Although… thinking back (and you hate to admit it), that may have been the best sex of your life.

_Oh, shit. What have I done?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations of Importance:
> 
> N’est-ce pas?: Isn’t it?
> 
> me déshabiller: undessing me
> 
> Mon Dieu, vous êtes une diablesse: My God, you’re a she-devil
> 
> baise-moi: f*** me (informal) - (so says the internet, because they did not teach us this in school XD)


End file.
